I sat for a minute staring into the abyss. It didn’t look back at me, it just cackled and thought I was funny.
Then the man said, “Take your dick out, I’ll suck it.”
I did.
He moved his head in the location of my crotch and gave me the best blowjob I ever had.
While he blew me.
I watched the movie.
It was two young lesbians making out and touching butts.
I apologized for not matching him in dick size, but he said, “At least you can stick all of your dick in the hole without worrying. The last time I stuck my dick completely in someone they were in the hospital for two days.”
I felt better when he said that.
It still would be cool to have a nine-inch dick.
I blew my load in his mouth.
He sat up.
He swallowed it down.
He put his coat on and said, “Gotta go home. The little woman serves dinner at seven.”
He got up and left.
I stood up and walked to the porn store.
While I was there I noticed a room where several people were sitting.
I went in.
There was a Christmas tree with lights.
A television with news on and free coffee.
Four people sitting there.
They all looked ruined.
There was a female crack whore who was forty-five years old. She was wearing a torn-up Browns coat and a short dress.
She looked like hell and a half.
There was a guy sitting by himself wearing fifties-style glasses drinking a cup of coffee, staring into deep space.
The two other males were sitting at a table together drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and talking.
One was an old guy with a scruffy beard.
The other wore a torn coat and jogging pants.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, sat at a table.
LOVE
In July of 2003, I was about dead.
Was broke and thousands in debt.
Had blown whole credit cards on prostitutes and vacations.
Had school loans and was constantly horny.
It was open mic night and I needed to get laid.
I drove to the bar.
Was alone, like always, alone.
Other people seemed like aliens to me.
Other people seemed—
Distant.
Unpredictable.
Weird.
Contingent.
Unreliable.
Untrustworthy.
Sick.
Miserable.
Terrified.
Dejected.
Humiliated.
Incorrigible.
Malignant.
Lazy.
Pathetic.
Absurd.
And I also saw all those qualities in myself.
There are a lot of good reasons to be terrified.
There is still no excuse for our behavior.
I got to the door of the bar and waited in line to get my ID checked.
In front of me was a tall blonde. Her hair was bleached.
She was taller than me.
And I found her attractive and unique looking.
She looked terrified.
There might be a human in there.
She got her ID checked and went into the bar.
I got mine checked and went to the bar and got a drink.
I sat at the bar for a minute.
Some zombie came up and sat next to me.
I looked at the zombie and recognized it as my old friend Dustin.
The zombie said, “Hey, you wanna play drums with me tonight? I made up a great song. It’s called “Purple Love.” Its got a Kinks rhythm mixed with Emo, it’s awesome.”
I looked straight ahead and said, “Listen Dustin, why do you play that shit? Do you wanna be famous for something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Well, I’m not going to participate in your bourgeois dream.”
“What has happened to you?”
Then the zombie left.
It was about time to go hit on that tall blonde.
She’d had enough time to find a seat, have a drink, and get settled in.
I stood up, looked around and thought, What a bunch of assholes.
Walked to the back room where the stage was.
The tall blonde was there.
I walked straight to her.
Kept getting closer and closer and closer and closer and there I was standing right in front of her.
She was sitting down.
I looked at her and said, “Hey!”
She looked up, saw me, and said, “Yeah!”
I told her my name and then asked, “What’s yours?”
“Billy Jean.”
That’s hot, I thought.
I pulled up a seat and sat next to her.
She was smiling, that was good. Smiles are always positive when flirting.
I asked Billy Jean for her number. She gave it to me and I walked off.
I went to the front of the bar.
Sat down and began to stare again.
I wanted to touch Billy Jean, real bad.
And assumed she’d fuck me.
I ordered another beer and went to the back.
She was sitting in a different location, on a small bench where we could sit together, close, touching, getting all horny and sexy like.
I sat next to her and told her about my dead baby, about trips out west, writing prose, and how I’m a bastard.
She sat there and listened and kept putting her bottom lip in her mouth real sexy like.
I made an inference, she was horny and wanted dick.
And then open mic night was over. We went outside to say goodbye.
She took some steps away from me and I yelled, “Hey!”
Billy Jean turned around.
I grabbed her shirt, pulled her to me and kissed her on the lips.
Then I cackled.
Billy Jean blushed, smiled and walked to her car.
That was the beginning of our sexual life together.
It only got weirder.
Billy Jean was a strange creature.
A combination of Trotsky, de Sade, and Simone de Beauvoir.
But she wasn’t any of those three people.
She was Billy Jean.
Fuck yeah!
She was covered in scars from cutting herself with a razor blade when she was going through puberty.
Billy Jean saw the injustice of what America does to females, and how they don’t allot females the freedom to even escape it.
She was apprenticed by two secret Marxists from Kentucky.
Coal miner stock that was paid in script.
Billy Jean was playing chess when she was seven.
Billy Jean read trashy romance novels by the age of ten.
Billy Jean grew up poor eating hot dogs and drinking Kool-Aid made with well water.
Billy Jean’s house growing up had a coal shoot.
Billy Jean was classy, but you could tell she was still white trash.
And that is what I’ve always looked for.
Someone like me, white trash but still reads.
We were both very alone.
First there must be a detailed description of Billy Jean’s body, so you can properly imagine it.
Billy Jean’s Body:
Height: Five feet eleven inches.
Shape: Hourglass.
Arms: Soft twigs.
Hands: Little and cute.
Feet: Also little and cute.
Eyes: Big and green.
Breasts: Perky, almost a C. They cannot hold up a pencil.
Legs: Long and soft.
Skin Tone: A bit darker than white trash blue, even.
Ass: Big, beautiful and round, staring at her ass is the closest I’ve ever come to feeling transcendent.
One deformity: Her pinky toe. The nail is so small it can barely be seen. It is weird-looking.
*
Here are descriptions of the sex we participated in.
The best sex I’ve ever had.
One day we were naked sitting on the floor in her living room.
Billy Jean went in the bedroom and came out with some handcuffs.